中国,我的钥匙丢了。那是十多年前,我沿着红色大街疯狂地奔跑,我跑到了郊外的荒野上欢叫,后来,我的钥匙丢了。心灵,苦难的心灵不愿再流浪了,我想回家,打开抽屉,翻一翻我儿童时代的画片,还看一看那夹在书页里的翠绿的三叶草。而且我还想打开书橱,取出一本《海涅歌谣》,我要去约 China, my key is lost. It was more than a decade ago when I ran wildly along the Red Street, I ran into the wilds of the suburbs, and afterward, I lost my key. Heart, soul of misery do not want to wander again, I want to go home, open the drawer, double the picture of my childhood, also take a look at the green clover caught in the page. And I still want to open the bookcase, take out a “Heineken ballads,” I want to go about